The Hunter Seeker
by Zura
Summary: After a pale Argoninan breaks into their heavily guarded embassy the Thalmor place one of their best Jusiticiars in charge of capturing the culprit. Little does the task force know that their target is no mere thief but a superlative combatant that will pit elven mettle against monstrous skill. Takes place after the "Diplomatic Immunity" mission. Second in the "Whitescale" series.
1. Chapter 1

**13 Rain's Hand**

I, Theatlus Truegor, by order of his Lordship Pentagos of the 3rd Emissary, have embarked on a mission of the utmost import. I believe that keeping this journal will both serve to organize and record my thoughts as I continue this investigation. As a last resort it may also help my Thalmor brothers should anything happen to me.

Let me first begin with the reason for my mission. A fortnight and a day ago there was one of Ambassador Elenwen's much loved (by her) social gatherings comprised of the best boot-licking Nords Skyrim has to offer. A guest, on the guest list and with a proper invitation, arrived late to the party. It was oddly an Argonian male who went by "Verax" - a name we must assume is false but I will use it to identify the man regardless. A proper Argonian name would be much different but I have reason to believe this is no ordinary citizen of Black Marsh. At any rate this individual, with the help of our long time barkeep now identified as a traitor and spy, managed to slip from the festivities and raid our embassy. Classified documents as well as rare books were taken right from the desks and shelves of our own people.

Such was the skill of the intruder that a key ring was simply taken right off a guard's belt (who was summarily punished). In fact, other than the mingling with the other guests and speaking briefly with the Ambassador no one saw the assailant at all. Days later the long sought after Blades record keeper known only as Esbern was safely removed from his safe house in Riften by an unknown party. From the evidence found at the scene our investigators determined that a glass broadsword enhanced with flame and a uniquely shaped long dagger were used to over power one of our strike teams in minutes. All signs point towards the Verax individual but no survivors were left, not even locals witnessing the battle.

His Lordship demanded my immediate involvement and has charged me with ensnaring this agent of destruction before any more good Mer are lost. He also no doubt has priceless information on the whereabouts on the last Blades in Skyrim: the aforementioned Esbern and the older Nord woman, code named "Straw Hair". I have been given unlimited clearance and authority in this matter and do not intend to fail with the great deal of trust placed in me. Tomorrow I choose my team and we begin in earnest.

**17 Rain's Hand**

My, my, my, what a difference a few days makes. Where to begin? Firstly, it seems that Verax is indeed this Argonian's name or at least the one he is known by in Skyrim. Either he is incredibly stupid or incredibly audacious to use his real name at a clandestine function but no matter. I have requested all available information for every Hold from our eyes and ears. We are still assessing the data but from a public relations stand point this Verax is virtually unassailable.

He is well known and much respected as an adventurer in every corner of the land. More unbelievably he is also a Thane in eight of the nine Holds! It is a ceremonial but high honor bestowed on only the most helpful and well known citizens. It will be immensely difficult securing official cooperation in his capture from the Jarls and especially so in the holds openly hostile to us Thalmor. I may assume this is one of the reason he has ingratiated himself with the Nords. Who would suspect such a person of wrong doing when so many of Skyrim's citizens know of his good deeds?

Though it took much gold to acquire more specific information about him I've learned some key facts about my quarry. He is almost always seen at night or early morning and quickly is lost in open wilderness. He is always alone except when dealing with deliveries from his arms and armor company. Word around the holds is that he is an expert blacksmith and either makes the merchandise himself or is the front man for another reputable smithy. At most four others have been spotted with him, three his personal housecarls and one unknown Dunmer who has proven as difficult to track as Verax himself.

Strangest of all he has taken to wearing Thalmor robes! Through enthusiastic and thorough questioning we have learned that the robes are completely intact and well cared for. If he has killed one of ours there would be repair evidence but I feel something is wrong here. He would not be an agent of ours simply by his race but could he be an agent so high ranking even the 3rd Embassy knows not his station? I must assume he simply found the robes somehow but something here is clearly amiss.

Most troubling is that no one seems to know where he is at any given time, how to find him or even how to contact him. Most of his known associates advise speaking to the local Jarl for reasons already stated going directly to the Nords would be problematic.

I have been given a team of four. Tomorrow we set out for Solitude to speak with our contacts and get a closer look at his dealings there.

**4 Second Seed**

The Second Planting is almost upon us. The people of Solitude are gearing up for work as we continue our investigation.

Through intimidation and bribery we have learned where Verax lives in Solitude. It is a large manor that from official records was expensive both to purchase and furnish. Whatever Verax is involved in a large amount of coin has found its way to his pocket.

His local housecarl, known as Jordis the Sword-Maiden, had gone to the market and gave my infiltration specialist time to search the house for clues to its owner's whereabouts. What he found was as unhelpful as it was interesting. The house was exorbitantly furnished almost entirely for show indicating that our target may even be wealthier than it seems. Amazingly, the house was laid out like a great museum; entire rooms were dedicated to specific kinds of items. One room for swords, one for furs and bones of dragons (!), one for ceremonial apparel and so on. Drawers, dressers, wardrobes and cabinets were crammed with books instead of garments and personal effects. Though the master bedroom was immaculately organized, much like the rest of the house, a thin layer of dust coated everything.

No communique, gold or personal items were found at all. The only signs of habitation were made by the housecarl who only occupied one small room. I am tempted to request a Sieze and Sequester order for the housecarl but I am nearly sure it will do no good other than to arouse Verax's suspicions as well as upset the locals. Given his paranoia I would not be surprised if he never set foot in Solitude again if he learned we track him.

**17 Second Seed**

No new leads. I make the decision to contact various mercenary and underworld groups. I am putting up 10,000 septims for information that leads to his capture or 15,000 for him alive. This is a princely sum for this rabble I am forced to deal with so I expect results to come in soon. Such a massive bounty is bound to turn some heads. Perhaps I'll get lucky and some poor fools will at least leave a blood trail for me to follow. I've also put in requests to the infamous Dark Brotherhood as well as the Thieves Guild. I can't expect much from these Nords but at this point any lead will be a helpful one.

**23 Second Seed**

Mid Year is almost upon us and I have nothing but disappointing news. The Thieves' Guild agreed to put out feelers for information but Verax's presence in Riften was, at best guess, at least six months ago. The contacts also made mention that any information would come at triple the normal price. Apparently it was well known even in Riften that Verax was not to be trifled with and that intel would be hard to come by.

Worse was the news from vaunted Dark Brotherhood. The Black Sacrament was performed faithfully by some dupe as ordered by one of our agents. Remarkably an assassin did appear before the contract maker in the dead of night. However, when informed of the target the assassin was visibly shaken and told the dupe they had twice attempted to take Verax's life on earlier contracts. He would not take the gold as he was unsure if the job could be finished but would be back if he was successful. To date, the assassin has yet to return for his payment.

The Argonian is proving a most difficult assignment. We are moving to Whiterun as it is a trading center and perhaps we'll run into him there.

**7 Mid Year**

A break at last! A Nord in Riverwood with a grudge against Verax (some petty woman troubles, how provincial) managed to strike gold for me. Eavesdropping on the blacksmith's wife he learned that Verax is due in Riverwood in one week to drop off a shipment of weapons. It is likely for the Mid Year Celebration festivities as so many foolish types mean to try their luck that day. At last, we will finally put and end to this hunt.

I expect this operation to come to a swift and routine end. With a proper capture and some luck we should be back at the Embassy within the month. I pray for just that but experience has taught me to be wary of assuming a job is finished when it is not...


	2. Chapter 2

**16 Mid Year**

Failure. I can only just contain my disappointment. Our prey was in sight and he slipped through our fingers like the oily Argonian eel he is.

We arrived in Riverwood days earlier and stayed outside town until the eve of the shipment. Waiting by the mill at midnight we yearned for a glimpse of our elusive target. If not at midnight exactly then nearly so his troupe came into view. Riding a black horse he directed the shipment's delivery and entered the smithy's house for a period of thirty minutes or so. The four he has previously been seen with unloaded the cargo and chatted amongst themselves. As Verax exited the home I got my first good look at the Argonian. Almost completely shrouded by the robes (an affront to the Thalmor!) I could somewhat make out his visage and his nose coming out from under the hood. Even from a distance I could see the menace of his darkling eyes as they scanned the area but did not detect us.

Strangeness followed strangeness. After speaking briefly with his subordinates he simply left town without his horse, housecarls or any weapon it seemed. He took the path out of the town gate and began walking into the murky forest. We quickly followed him into the night as he set a seemingly random path through the landscape. I saw easily why others had so much trouble keeping track of such a beast. Carrying no torch or lantern he navigated through the brush and we followed aided by magical sight. It would have been near impossible for amateurs to both track him and remain unnoticed. After a number of direction changes the target straightened his route and eventually followed a river upstream as it wound through the forest.

I did not expect what happened next. He began talking to himself as he walked through the darkness. I could not hear all of the words but he appeared to be having a conversation with no one that included stops to hear what the other person was saying. It was as curious as it was worrisome. I may have heard "That is your opinion, Lucien." but I can't be sure.

We were coming up to a waterfall which would perfectly mask a sudden increase in speed and allow us to catch him. I was perplexed by his behavior but I turned to signal my mer regardless. When I turned back the Argonian had vanished. Gone, into thin air. We searched in vain for hours but it was no use. Daylight revealed the trick: he back tracked on his own foot prints and simply dove over the edge of the path into the river. The steady but low roar of the coming waterfall all but nullified the tell tale splash of his exit. I had felt eyes upon me as we searched and it is likely he saw us. How upsetting.

**29 Mid Year**

We have returned to Whiterun. I have received a list of dates, times, and locations that confirm at least some of Verax's activities. After serious investigation I deemed it necessary to utilize every Imperial contact at my disposal to follow a unlikely possibility that had to be ruled out. At great cost I have obtained copies from what is left of the Penitus Oculatus on the assassination of Emperor Titus Mede II. I paid for them based on my own hunch and a series of unsettling coincidences.

What began as a simply routine check on dates has turned into something far more sinister. What I've found is nothing short of amazing, even historically important. In their ultimately unsuccessful bid to protect the Emperor the Oculatus battled the Dark Brotherhood quite literally across Skyrim. They burned out their sanctuary near Falkreath and supposedly killed the entire den of assassins. Obviously they failed and least another score of their agents along with the Oculatus commanding officer died in further violence. Most interesting however are the documents on the individual assassins themselves. While no living assassin has ever been captured and interrogated several have been spotted fleeing the scenes of their crimes. The reports mention not one but two Argonians in their employ. While this is not unusual (especially given the existence of the Shadowscales) in itself there is an interesting fact in the report on the Emperor's death. Though he was never apprehended and killed close to a dozen Oculatus agents single-handed the assassin who poisoned Titus Mede's double was most definitely Argonian. The interview with the terrified cook who unwittingly aided the assassin confirms it: the Argonian was male, he was Verax's height and had pale white scales. The assassin also escaped by quite literally jumping off the city walls to the waters some hundreds of yalms below Solitude.

This alone would be highly suspicious to any investigator. It is not as if Argonians are in short supply (though ones as pale as Verax are indeed uncommon) but it is too convenient. It seemed a high ranking Imperial had the same idea as Verax was questioned the very night of the assassination attempt. Already a well respected citizen by then he was still roused by the city guard from sleep in his own manor. An understandably livid Verax was questioned and vouched for by his housecarl as well as district guards as having not left the manor all night. The Jarl intervened on his behalf but he was never presented before witnesses. The cook, by the way, was found dead less than a week after the poisoning attempt.

As if this was not enough circumstantial evidence the crux of my reasoning is too rational to ignore. While I surmise that Verax had the audacity to return to his own manor undetected after the assassination attempt this is not my main argument. The report I mentioned earlier places him not once, not twice, but three times in the Solitude area around the times of high profile assassinations including the Emperor! If only I had access to his ledgers I could definitively place him in the city within days of said events.

Too many coincidences. Verax's presence, his night time preference (when all of his hits were made), his combat record against us and his uncanny infiltration skills all add up. There's even the jumping into water to avoid tracking technique he used albeit in a far grander fashion than in our encounter. I do not believe for a second his innocence in being "woken" from his sleep by the guard. He may have even gone straight home after evading the Oculatus.

I can hardly believe my own findings. There is no doubt in my mind Verax is not only a member of the Dark Brotherhood but an absolute master assassin. To send a single agent into the depths of a heavily guarded castle to poison an Emperor would be suicide for anyone else. Verax is either the head of the order itself or their very best operative. I've no doubt that if I were to cross examine the wounds on Titus Mede with the ones on our strike team in Riften they would be identical. Had there been any survivors from the attack on the _Katariah_ they would have almost certainly told of a pale Argonian with a dagger whose curvature was unlike any other.

This explains the suspicious lack of information on him at the Thieves Guild and the unwillingness of his order to help. I am unlikely to receive the crucial information I seek from Riften as no doubt the rabble fears the servants of Sithis more than they desire my gold. I will write to the emissary right after this entry. This task may be beyond my current capabilities. At the very least I will require a larger task force.

**2 Sun's Height**

The Merchant's festival is in less than a week. There are no reports from my Nord spy about anything going on in Riverwood and I did not suspect there would be. We've tipped Verax off by failing to apprehend him and I don't expect the same trick to work twice. Perhaps with the extra merchant activity in Whiterun we will stumble onto a different avenue of attack.

**3 Sun's Height**

News from headquarters. I have received word that I am to lead a force of 20 (!) to combat this threat. In addition I am to hire mercenaries whenever my prey is located to minimize the chances of Thalmor casualties. My detailed report was apparently well received by his Lordship and he has expressed approval over my progress thus far. If Verax is as dangerous as I believe he is then the sooner and not the later we must catch him.

**7 Sun's Height**

With the help of my subordinates I am beginning to fathom a strategy for snaring my quarry. My agents will pose as weapons dealers interested in his stock. It will take several purchases (which may be recouped by resale in order to offset some of the costs of this operation) to gain his confidence. A large, false order will then be placed but requiring a face to face with the man himself in order to allay the 'buyers' fears. My contacts must either be completely clean or unaware of the machinations behind their purchases. Were I to use any Thalmor connected agents Verax would sniff them out in an instant.

**30 Sun's Height**

I have arranged for the first sale to take place. At the same time I have hired close to 40 mercenaries of various stripes who will be on call when needed. With a total force of over 60 to cover a widespread area I believe we have more than enough to subdue a single assassin no matter how talented he may be.

**6 Last Seed**

The first purchases have been made. Things have gone smoothly and the merchandise, I must say, is quality. The blades are not uniform in style however leading me to assume that he has multiple smithies in his employ, he collects the base items from fallen foes before improving them himself, or both.

**16 Last Seed**

Not much to report. The second order cannot be rushed so we have spent time gathering more information. We are still stymied at his seemingly random movements. Some interesting reports coming in that we'll have to sift through and verify the accuracy of.

**29 Last Seed**

Unsettling news. With a full team at my disposal we have uncovered two extremely important and equally unnerving facts about our friend.

Firstly, I have found that Verax's scales were not always pale but were once dark and gray. Reports from Riverwood (my now thoroughly obedient Nord contact there) indicate that when he escaped from the headsman's axe at Helgen he arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back and weapons taken from the dead. Several townsfolk clearly recall the dark, almost Dunmer like tint to his scales.

It was late 4E 201 when he began requiring deals to be made at night and seen in Thalmor robes. This coincides with an extended stay in the Morthal area (Side note: Verax is also Thane of Morthal and if memory serves the Jarl of Morthal was on the guest list at the embassy party. Connection?) which had been plagued with missing people, mysterious fires and chilling rumors of dark magic at work. In rides Verax to clean up the town's problem stemming from a vampire coven not a hundred yalms away. Verax personally led a angry mob bearing torches (no sarcasm, this truly happened) to attack the den and they succeeded in destroying vile creatures within. It is only after this time that Verax took to wearing heavy Thalmor robes and folk recall his newly whitened scales.

We have stumbled on a simple yet powerful truth: Verax was bitten during that raid and has lived as a vampire ever since. This presents a unique set of circumstances in dealing with him that will have to alter our plans. While a master vampire typically begins a coven somewhere underground Verax is not a typical case. He remains above ground, mingles with the high born of the Holds and frequently travels in the middle of day. No doubt much of this is to keep up his masquerade as a hero of Skyrim. Despite his wide variety of contacts he is rarely spotted in the company of others excepting regular but short trips to the Companion's hall in Whiterun. Other than his housecarls he has no known associates and if he is leading his own coven it has not ever been discovered. Interesting enough he has personally destroyed several more nests of his new brethren around Skyrim since the Morthal encounter. I believe this disassociation with his kind means that we will not have to deal with a flock of Verax's progeny guarding their sire.

While it can be problematic dealing with his kind it does provide a framework with which to work in. We must draw him out in the open as a he is too stealthy to be caught in the open (being a master of stealth and evasion twice over, by trade and nature). My battleground must be an open field with no cover or rivers nearby. It must be fenced in with rows of men to prevent escape. It must be day time. I must have ample flame.

This news unfortunately is rather incidental compared to the second bit of news. We have checked, double checked and triple checked statements to confirm their accuracy and all signs point to them being true. I believe Verax to be Dragonborn as reported mainly from Whiterun. It has since been confirmed in six of the nine holds where he has felled the dragons that have been plaguing Skyrim. Awed citizens and guards alike report (and confirm my suspicions) not only his skill but his acts of devouring of dragon souls.

Unlike previous discoveries of his character this is by far the most troubling. Descended from Akatosh himself Verax is responsible for more than a dozen confirmed kills of draconian brethren and likely many more out in the wilderness with no witnesses. I do not need to embellish the impact of this incredible discovery nor can I overstate the danger involved with tracking this individual.

It is possible we seek out the deadliest combatant in all of Skyrim, perhaps even all of Tamriel. His connection to the Blades is now painfully obvious as they have served the Septim line for centuries and been dragonslayers long before. It is no far stretch to believe they have learned of his bloodline and now seek to guide him towards their goals. I have written to my superior in this matter. My optimism regarding a swift end to this mission is gone. I am no longer sure we can prevail even with a small army to take down one man. I shudder to think of the casualties involved had we acted earlier without properly ascertaining our target's threat level. I am sure had we engaged him on that dark road in Riverwood I would not be alive to write this now.

I can only trust in my Thalmor brothers and sisters. I pray his Lordship makes the correct decision about this mission.

**3 Hearthfire**

Today is the day of Tales and Tallows. It is an old necromancy holiday and thus has the common rabble locked inside their homes. I hope it is not an ill omen that today a letter arrived from the Embassy. I have received grim confirmation to continue my schemes. Verax must be stopped even if we are to lay down our lives. I have informed the troops and their reaction was as mine. We have come too far to back down like cowardly Men. Thalmor supremacy must come to Tamriel no matter the cost.

I pray not for my own safety but for success. Even if none of us remain to tell of it Verax's death or capture is for the sake of all. We dare not fail them, we dare not falter.


	3. Chapter 3

**11 Hearthfire**

The second purchase is away. We have found an Imperial buyer so moving the goods will not be an issue.

**13 Hearthfire**

I find myself thinking more and more on the dichotomy that is Verax Whitescale (as he is sometimes called). Publicly he is a model citizen and a boon to Skyrim. On the other hand he is a vampire assassin responsible for crimes as heinous as his deeds are just. I know my enemy well by now, the erratic nature of his movements carefully planned to make him impossible to track, who he deals with, his allies, his business. But his motivations and the glaring why behind it all are more elusive than he himself. Why hunt bandits, murderers, vampires when he is more lethal then all of them combined? When he shares their nature? This makes no sense to me. I hope that one day I have the chance to ask him.

Then there is the mystery of him speaking to himself in the dark all those months ago. I can think of no good reason for this behavior. Perhaps he is truly insane and simply has no motivations whatsoever but I cannot believe that. There is too much rational planning behind his actions. A madman has not the capacity for his ingeniousness. His paranoia, perhaps.

**27 Hearthfire**

Months have fallen away with little to show for it. In the coming weeks my agents with request the face to face meeting. Hundreds of hours of work and thousands of septims are in danger of being all for naught if he becomes suspicious. We can only pray his proclivity for people bears out the fruit we hope for.

**10 Frostfall**

The trap is set. He has agreed to meet at my chosen battle ground but politely refused a day time meeting. He cited his need for privacy but no matter. I will not waste this chance. My mer and mercenaries are ready. I have hired on an additional 20 of Skyrim's hired muscle bringing my total force to near a hundred. I am confident in my plan but I feel more and more anxious as the day draw closer. Sometimes I dream of waking to find Verax's teeth hovering over me. I see his shrouded face in every Argonian that passes through. The one thing that is for sure is that, fail or succeed, I will be glad when this is over.

**27 Frostfall**

We are three days away. More than half a year I have tracked this prey and laid eyes on him only once. I feel slightly ill about the entire thing and my stomach twists itself just thinking about the operation. I pray for success and for harm to find only my hired help and not my brothers in arms.

**29 Frostfall**

Tomorrow.

Lord Pentagos put down the journal. Sitting at the small table by the small bed in the cramped abode he felt rejuvenated being away from the Embassy. It was a refreshing change from the static surroundings and matter of fact reports he read by the dozen almost daily. This journal was the best part of his trip so far. Such meticulously crafted work that ultimately ended in complete victory. A promotion was certainly in order for the young Truegor. He had been an effective justiciar but this would be the crown jewel of his career.

The door to the hut was rapped upon and Pentagos said, "Enter."

Theatlus bowed his head in the door and saluted. "Sir!"

"I was just reading your notes. Bloody good work my boy."

The justiciar was taken aback if only slightly. "I...did not expect you to read them your Lordship. I apologize-"

The elder head of the Embassy waved him off. "No worry. I want to hear of how the battle went."

"My report was not precise enough?" Theatlus asked.

"I would hear your unofficial version. You've quite a talent for making field work interesting."

"Ah...thank you sir. Well, where to begin? Everything went according to plan at first. He was there just like he said he would be."

"And ready for battle." Pentagos said as he turned to the collection of the captive's belongings laying against the wall. A suit of dragon scale armor, a shield of dragon bone, a massive glass broadsword, numerous poisons, healing tonics and more knives than a rational person would carry were stacked together in piles.

"Aye." Theatlus agreed. "I believe he knew it was a trap but came anyway."

"Such hubris." Pentagos shook his head before examining the sword up close. "It is still stained with the blood of Men and Mer alike."

"The troops dared not touch it. I had to bring the gear in myself."

"A superstitious lot soldiers always are. What's this inscription along the bottom of the hilt?"

"'Benigne Carnifex'" the justiciar answered. "It means 'blessed executioner' in an old Imperial tongue."

"Our guest is learned in addition to his many other talents?"

"Oh yes. His personal library is quite extensive and spans at least four Holds."

"Hmph. No doubt the savage has the books taken from my embassy under lock and key. I would have them recovered if possible, Theatlus." Pentagos ordered.

"Of course."

"Now, this armor here...it is unlike anything I've yet seen. Where do you suppose it was made?"

"I am not sure your Lordship. I only know for certain that everything you see here he made himself."

"Fascinating. All of this only enhances your status, Justiciar. To have caught such a worthy adversary will do wonders for your station."

"Many paid for it with their lives, your Lordship."

"Yes. Do tell me of the battle." Pentagos nodded. The much younger Justiciar took in a deep breath as he recalled what must have been a harrowing event. "We set the Nord dogs on him while we waited in cover. They rushed him from all directions whooping and yelling. Verax did not move and for a moment it seemed as if that would be the end of it. The attack...did not go well. His first Thu'um scattered the humans like frightened beasts and he began cleaving through them. The second Thu'um was a dragon's breath itself, milord. Even from our position we felt the heat."

"The humans broke, didn't they?"

"Yes sir. He cut down many as they fled. Some fought on while others ran like one might expect a common sell sword. But even with overwhelming numbers the humans could not dent his defenses and fell by the score. That horrid blade hacked through Men like they wore paper armor. When it was clear that they were good for little but dying I acted. I gave the signal to loose arrows on his position as he slaughtered them."

"Ah. An old Bosmer tactic." Pentagos admired. "Sacrificing the already dead to hit your true target."

"Indeed, sir. Verax covered with that shield there like a turtle. Our finest arrows bounced off the dragon bone like threading needles on a mudcrab shell. You can see the marks they made but not a one penetrated. There was little else to do but give the order to charge."

"How many did we lose?"

"11, sir. I am ashamed to say so."

"Nonsense. You and your mer have done us proud. How did you finally lay down this animal?"

"At some point he had lost his weapon and simply began killing with one arm. One hand would bash with his shield and the other would pierce vitals while he loosed Thu'um upon us. We could not get close enough as he'd killed our mages first and any who tried to engage him were rebuffed or killed outright by his voice.

"It seemed hopeless but then Justiciar Forham ran straight at our foe and boldly jumped onto Verax. He was slain almost instantly when the fiend drove his plated fingers into Forham's throat. However, even in death our brother fought on as Verax's hand became momentarily stuck in his body. Justiciar Elzra saw her chance and summoned her full strength to throw her battle hammer at the back of his head. The weapon struck true and the blow would have killed anyone else but she merely knocked him down for a brief time. We swarmed Verax and by the Eight it was over."

"The bravery of your mer knows no bounds Theatlus! To think that despite all your precautions such a monster could nearly prevail. Let us have a look at this helmet. Ah, I see the dent here. Such a fine piece of craftsmanship. Now, may I assume you then had things under control from there?"

"Certainly, sir. I had him bound and gagged immediately. Four mer carried him and kept his limbs restrained. Even naked and unarmed he is considerably dangerous."

"I think I'll see him now." Pentagos decided.

"Sir? Are you sure?" Theatlus blinked.

"Is he not fully restrained?"

"Aye but...well I'd rather not risk anything." Theatlus admitted.

"With my guard here we are nearly 20 strong my boy. We can deal with one unruly captive can we not?"

"Of course, your Lordship."

They exited the Justiciar's temporary cabin to the Thalmor camp. It was only a few scantly furnished huts well hidden in the mountains northeast of Whiterun. Pentagos had not bothered to visit the actual battle site as he deemed this excursion more of a formality than anything. Their camp could be abandoned at any moment and there would be nothing left behind for anyone to follow. It was the perfect locale to store a dangerous fugitive until he could be taken back to the embassy for prolonged extraction.

Stepping out into the snow the two leaders of the Thalmor walked briskly down the short path to the holding room. Pentagos nodded to the soldiers standing guard who hurriedly opened the door for him. Dipping his head into the room the elder Altmer examined the equipment that nearly filled the hut . It was twice caged with a main set of bars filling the space and a second one inside it just barely larger than the prisoner. At the center was the pale Argonian bound against a steel grating at eight different points. He was thoroughly gagged with twine constricting his snout, blindfolded twice over and his bonds barely allowed for any movement they were so tight.

"Why did you cover his eyes?" Pentagos asked.

"He nearly escaped when a guard looked into them. The poor soul was hypnotized and was found unlocking the cage before being wrestled to the ground."

"Amazing. Can you hear me, beast?" Pentagos raised his voice. "You are going to tell us about your Blades friends. You will tell us everything, eventually. Our extraction experts are peerless."

Turning back to his subordinate Pentagos clapped him on the shoulder. "Come Theatlus. Let us sup together while we talk of your promotion. When I write to Summerset of this I've no doubt you'll be quickly in line for a high post indeed."

They left the hut and headed over where the foodstuffs where kept. Sitting down with good cheese, wine and fresh bread they ate quietly while Pentagos mentally tallied the days it would take to make it back to the embassy.

"Your Lordship..." Theatlus began.

"Yes?"

"Something...something does not yet sit well with me." he said restlessly.

Pentagos thoughtfully chewed on a piece of crust and washed it down with a sip of wine before responding. "You are uneasy, Theatlus. Uneasy and nervous. What could possibly be bothering you so?"

"It's just...he makes no attempt to escape." the justiciar explained.

"I don't understand your concern. Did he not attempt to beguile your mer already?"

"Yes sir but...he himself has made no attempt to break his bonds, test his cage or even struggle after being captured. It's as if...as if he is resigned to his fate."

"A sensible man would be." Pentagos pointed out. "He knows his lot in life now."

"But that is precisely what bothers me." the younger mer said. "Verax has escaped a hundred situations like this or worse. I cannot believe that he would simply allow us to take him back without struggle."

"What do you say, Theatlus? You believe he wanted to be caught? That it was his master plan to be defeated in combat?"

"I...I don't know. I just feel that something is not right."

"Too long you have chased shadows in the dark, Justiciar." the embassy head waved him off. "You have thought too much of your enemy to allow yourself to relax."

Troubled but obedient the justiciar chewed on his food with a resigned sigh. Chuckling at his subordinate Pentagos instead turned his mental attention to thinking of what he would be doing when they made it home. The concern of his best justiciar did make him pause though. It made no sense to worry about a prisoner so thoroughly defeated as the Whitescale menace. What sort of resistance could he offer as he was? Theatlus' mood was what the elder Altmer didn't like most. Justiciars such as him did not have false instincts often.

"Theatlus, did you ever work out why our guest was speaking to himself?" Pentagos asked.

"No your Lordship. It is one of the mysteries that I cannot solve without prolonged interrogation."

"Well, we will get some answers soon enough. Come, finish your cheese. We will go question him together and get to the bottom of this if we can. It is a long shot that he will answer truthfully without encouragement but what can the harm be in trying?"

The justiciar gave him a look that said there could indeed be harm but Pentagos ignored it. He simply needed to be shown that his enemy was broken. They would talk with this Verax, oh yes. Then there would be no doubts as to who would seek mercy from who.


	4. Chapter 4

Finishing their short meal the justiciar and his superior returned to the hut where the prisoner languished. The head of the Third Embassy studied the set up carefully and wondered again what his top justiciar was worried about. Alone, restrained, bound, gagged and locked in a room only the Thalmor knew the location of he was utterly helpless. Theatlus only need be shown that this threat was contained to ease his mind.

Running his fingers along the bars Pentagos said loudly, "Can you hear me, beast? I am Lord Pentagos of the Third Embassy. Your life belongs to the Thalmor now. Resist and your days will be dark indeed. Cooperate and you might be spared a modicum of pain. You will nod once for yes and shake your head for no when I ask my questions. Anything you do not answer you will be suitably punished for. Do you understand?"

The prisoner raised his bound head in the cage. Seeming to weigh his options he nodded once.

"Good. Theatlus here is the one who caught you. You will learn to fear his name as you will learn to fear attempting to hide the truth from us. He wrongly believes you a threat but you are not. You will answer his questions fully and truthfully, do you understand?"

Again the Argonian nodded once in subservience. "You see? Even a savage can be taught manners with the appropriate tools. Go ahead my boy." Pentagos gestured towards the cage.

Clearing his throat Theatlus said, "I know you well, Verax Whitescale. I have tracked you from black forest to high cliff and everywhere in between. I know well the situations you have escaped where lesser men would have died long ago. Do you think you can escape from us now?"

The prisoner nodded once in agreement. "Interesting." Pentagos noted in a low voice. "Even defeated he believes he is a match for us."

"Do you believe you have a plan for escaping that will work?" the justiciar called out.

Again the lizard nodded to Pentagos' amazement. "I cannot tell if he is serious or not." he whispered.

"That night in Riverwood. You knew we were tracking you but you evaded us anyway. Were you alone that night when you were speaking to no one?" Theatlus pressed.

Incredibly Verax shook his head in disagreement. "What is this? Is this a jest?"

"No, Your Lordship, I think not." Theatlus answered. "Are you alone now?"

Again the Argonian shook his head no. Slightly alarmed but outwardly confident Pentagos shared a look with the justiciar. "He toys with you, Theatlus. We must beat him most vigorously for this."

"No, something is wrong." Theatlus said worriedly. "Verax. You plan on attacking us somehow don't you?"

The Argonian nodded and Pentagos didn't think this exercise was funny anymore. "This is a ploy." he said.

"Have you a way of calling your allies we do not yet know of?" the justiciar asked.

Gravely Verax nodded yet again. Pentagos was genuinely disturbed by what had to be a ruse by the captive. "I applaud your creativity, monster, but you quite alone here. Not even the most fearless trackers could have followed us."

Verax remained motionless and the intrepid justiciar pressed on despite the implications the lizard was trying to make. "Have you tried to bring your allies to us yet?" he demanded.

The prisoner did not shake his head nor did he nod but he emanated a low rumbling sound. It took Pentagos a moment to realize that he was laughing as best he could with his jaws bound shut.

"This can't be anything more than false bravado." Pentagos reasoned.

"I-" Theatlus started but abruptly stopped to make a concerned face.

"What?"

"Is that-"

Something arced through the air and landed just outside the hut in a massive, fiery explosion. Cries erupted nearby and Theatlus' face went white. Pentagos' alarm turn to panic but he managed to keep his wits about him. His guard could handle whoever was attacking but things would change in an instant if the prisoner was freed. Executing a split second decision Pentagos charged himself with making sure Verax would not leave this room alive. He reached for his sword but something deathly cold slipped under his chin and Pentagos felt a violent, whipping sting cross his throat. Red blood sprayed out onto Theatlus' shocked face and the elder Altmer tried to cry out to no avail. He felt light headed as he staggered on teetering legs and tried to think of the magick to heal himself. Unable to think and choking on his own blood Pentagos fell off his feet, through the floor, through the ground beneath that and into eternity.

* * *

><p>Theatlus watched in horror as his superior's throat simply blossomed open and blasted him gruesomely in the face with warm vital fluids. Before he could think to react he took a powerful blow to the side of the head. The elf momentarily blacked out as he dropped to his knees and struggled to shake the stars from his vision. Another heavy strike knocked him down to the floor and almost out completely.<p>

Drifting out of consciousness for a moment Theatlus was likely suffering from a concussion when he attempted to see who had struck him. Looking around the room in a daze he saw only the captive. He watched Verax as the blindfold came off all on its own and furious eyes stared him down. Only when the bandages over his mouth began to unwind themselves did Theatlus see the spectral hand of a ghost like entity freeing the Argonian. The justiciar's mind wailed but his body was still borderline unconscious as he recovered. Regardless Theatlus tried to raise himself and was only dimly aware of the battle raging outside the hut.

The last wrap came off and the Dragonborn prisoner said in a rasping, angry voice, "Took your damnable time!" to whatever had just freed him. Sucking in a deep breath of air the beast exhaled a freezing, unbearably cold blast upon his own body! Both his scales and the bindings that held him were quickly coated with a layer of frost and Theatlus knew that if he didn't get up soon he might never again.

Forcing his groggy head and disobedient muscles to respond the high elf push himself up with his arms and attempted to get his feet under him as he heard the sound of metal breaking like glass just a few yalms away. Panicking the justiciar watched the Argonian snap his bonds apart and summon a spectral sword into his hand. Pointing at Theatlus with it Verax said, "Bind that one. I'm going out to finish this."

The ghost of a hooded man floated effortlessly through the bars between them. Theatlus scrambled forward and got his hand around his late superior's sword but a very real boot kicked it away as Verax smashed through the locks keeping him prisoner. Theatlus felt strong hands that radiated an otherworldly chill grip his own and begin lashing them together. A pitiless, ethereal face stared down at the justiciar as it bound his hands together.

Smashing through the second set of bars' locks Verax regarded Theatlus for a moment. Blood shot, reptilian slits glared at him with the promise of bodily harm before Verax turned towards the door. Just at that moment a wounded justiciar threw open the burning door and came rushing in only to find Verax free and armed. The doomed elf felt the full fury of a savage Shout that nearly knocked the building down. The justiciar, the door and parts of the frame were simply blown away by the force his terrible voice. It actually woke Theatlus up a bit just before a black hood was pulled over his head.

* * *

><p>It was much later, possibly a full day and night, but it was hard to tell time from under the hood. He had been taken somewhere close by and sat down in a small room which ironically was a Thalmor barrack as best as he could tell. Tied to the wall he could hear commotion and voices coming from outside but he was alone in the small room. Alternately preparing for his own death and dozing Theatlus had ample time to consider what went wrong. He had ignored his troubled instincts at his own peril and what remained of the Thalmor were ambushed by what had to be Verax's minions.<p>

The door to the hut opened and Theatlus' heart beat a little faster. When he heard two sets of boots coming for him the justiciar did not resist as he was hauled to his feet. Led out of whatever building he was in the Theatlus was taken along the rough terrain of Skyrim's tundra. They walked away from the well worn path of the Thalmor encampment into the wilderness. Though he often half tripped without the aid of vision he could tell the elevation was rising as they were going upwards. The path grew more and more rocky until he was treading almost exclusively on hard stone.

Stopping abruptly after twenty minutes or so his captors forced the justiciar down on his knees and whipped off the blindfold. The full blazing sun hit his eyes and Theatlus blinked in pain as they readjusted to seeing again. Turning back he saw two dark robed figures with black hands their backs walking away from him down a slope. The calling card of the Dark Brotherhood was not unknown to Theatlus and he had an answer as to who had come to Verax's aid.

Surveying the surroundings he saw that he was on a high crag overlooking a meadow with the bluish mountains of Skyrim in the distance. A verdant field spread out before him on his perch where a strong wind blew and the contemplative Altmer was almost glad of it. This wouldn't be so bad of a death.

One set of feet approached barely louder than the whipping breeze that was rushing all around them. Theatlus knew even this was for his benefit as the man coming towards him could be completely silent if he so chose.

"I knew something would go wrong." Theatlus said to the open air. "I had ill premonitions for a month. You did not disappoint, Dovahkiin."

Verax moved from behind him with a wooden stool in his hands which he set down in front of the justiciar. He was dressed in simple black robes just like his followers and gestured with a gloved hand to the stool. His whitened face and tail were the only things out in the light as he viewed the elf from under a hood. Theatlus picked himself up and carefully balanced down onto the stool without the use of his hands.

Taking a seat on the hard rock Verax crossed his legs and pulled back the hood to show his face. It was measured, calm but very careful and alert. Studying Theatlus with cold eye slits like a puzzle the Argonian was as silent as the mountains around them.

"Are you just going to stare all day?" the justiciar asked after several minutes of the lizard analyzing him.

"I always present myself before my targets." Verax said. His voice was a jagged, grating thing reminiscent of sandpaper grinding against rock "The hand of Sithis should be seen once before a creature's end. Seen, but not heard. A person's last thoughts should be of themselves, not I."

"So I was right then." the elf concluded.

"You were right about a great many things." Verax confirmed. "I read your journal. One must be impressed by your level of commitment. Many such men or mer would have put down their blade knowing what you do about me. Wise ones at any rate."

"You kept me alive to tell me that?"

"Where I come from one affords a measure of respect to their greatest enemies." the Argonian said and half-stood to be at face level with Theatlus. He leaned in just a hand's length away and the very teeth Theatlus had nightmares of gleamed as he spoke. "You're going to die today. Soon." Verax promised in that rasp directly from the underworld. "That's all there is to that."

Leaning back the assassin measured the lack of effect his words had on the justiciar. "But as I said, I respect your abilities. So before you meet your maker, I will answer any questions you have fully, completely, truthfully."

Theatlus pondered this for a moment. He could spit in the reptile's face and call it a life well spent but his curiosity was too great. "All right. Most pressing then. How did you escape?"

"Ah, but you already know Justiciar Truegor. You heard his whispers long ago in Riverwood. Master Lachance never leaves my side just as I have long walked in hatred's company."

"The ghost...?"

"Bound to me by the Dread Father himself. The long dead Speaker is both mentor and assistant."

"It was him you were speaking to on the road from Riverwood."

"Aye. It was he who suggested that I was being followed that night. Many times his unblinking eye has warned me of danger."

"I knew it." Theatlus shook his head. "You aren't insane. You're the Brotherhood leader. And you killed Titus Mede yourself."

"Correct." Verax confirmed. "His blood stained robes and the very dagger I used are on display in my home. It is not every day one changes the course of history, mind you."

"May I assume you crafted a blade just for him as you sometimes do?"

The Argonian smiled in a gleeful if chilling way. "You are certainly a worthy foe, Justiciar. I did indeed forge metal for that task. Titus Mede III lays to rest in its scabbard with its predecessor's blood still on it."

"May I assume the struggle was suitably epic?"

"No, strangely. The Emperor did not resist. He had accepted his fate. But he did have a most unusual request."

"Oh?"

"He asked me to kill whoever hired me in the first place. It was an Elder Council member scheming to take the throne."

"How odd." Theatlus mused. "Did he die knowing he would be avenged?"

"No. I said nothing. I always say nothing." Verax shook his head. "As I said, a person's last thoughts should be spent on themselves."

"You did not honor his request then."

"I did, verily, to my employer's surprise." Verax said. "From wherever he rests Titus Mede II may look down on Tamriel and see his final wish fulfilled."

That odd duality again sprang into Theatlus' mind. Why would an assassin grant a last wish to a target especially against his own employer? The justiciar decided to test Verax's promise to tell the truth.

"Your home...your real home. It is with the Brotherhood isn't it?" he asked.

"Aye." the Argonian nodded.

"Where?"

"Dawnstar."

"Underground yes? Away from prying eyes and sunlight?"

"Yes."

"You're a vampire aren't you?"

"Yes."

"It happened when you led Morthal citizens to the nest didn't it?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you cure yourself?"

Verax sat back as he gathered his thoughts. "Have you read the book 'Immortal Blood'?"

"I think. The fanciful tale of the vampire hunter? Did you yearn to be like him?"

"No, the book is quite accurate." he said seriously. "It was Movarth himself who turned me. He was terribly strong with several centuries of life and many followers. I made sure to confirm the tale before I lit him on fire."

"He bit you?"

"During the battle, yes. His progeny I struck down without issue but he proved to be a considerably dangerous adversary. Perhaps this is why I am a free man today. The will of a sire exerts a powerful suggestive influence to the underlings you see. Had he lived I might be his mindless tool to this day."

"Yet you still would freely destroy your fellow night kin?"

"The children of the night are no kin of mine." Verax refuted. "Those who prey on the weak deserve no mercy and I have none to spare in the first place."

Theatlus thought of this line of reasoning before asking his next questions. "At my embassy. You could have slaughtered us if you chose. Why did you simply bypass our guard?"

"I did not go for blood." the assassin shrugged. "I needed only information from your embassy and it was not necessary to kill to get it. You know nothing of the dragon attacks and thus were no threat to me."

"So you were working for the Blades after all."

"Nnnng, now you assume too much. The Blades work for me. It was your information that led to our collusion. You see, much like Skyrim's turmoil I care nothing for your long history with the Blades. There are more important matters afoot. Their wisdom was what I sought and it was more priceless than you can imagine."

"What kind of wisdom?"

"Of the dragons you silly elf." Verax laughed. "What do you think this is all about?"

"I...well..."

"You know the legend of the Dragonborn. What do you think I am meant to do?"

"That is an old legend. I only know of it because of my investigations into your nature. But you can't be the one to fight the World Eater."

"These times are upon us, Justiciar." Verax shook his head. "I have seen him with my own eyes. Al-Du-In. First son of Akatosh. He and I are destined to decide if this world is allowed to live or die."

Theatlus had to think to let this sink in. Considering everything he knew about Verax it almost made a twisted kind of sense. There was that providence that seemed to follow the lizard around wherever he went and keep him from harm. Perhaps the ill feeling Theatlus had about the mission was because he simply was not fated to win. It would be a great dragon that would take Verax Whitescale to the afterlife but this would spell doom for Tamriel. The gods had a terrible sense of humor.

All too aware that his end would follow Theatlus only had one more question for his captor. "There is one more mystery that I have not been able to unravel. Why...why do you do what you do? You follow no reason or logic in your actions. One day you solve the problems of a Hold and another you throw the Empire itself into disarray with your blades. Why? What madness drives you?"

"Ah, well..." Verax started but stopped to think more on it. Rising from his sitting position he walked to the edge of the crag they were on and rested his hands on his hips. The wind blew around them for a spell before the Argonian decided to turn back to face him.

"Have you read 'The Doors of Oblivion' elf?" he asked as he paced around Theatlus.

"No."

"It details a master conjurer visiting the various planes of Oblivion. I have read it many times. Do you know where you will go when you die? I do not." Verax said and for the first time the look of concern was on his scaled face.  
>"Will I join the Void as Master LaChance never ceases to promise me? Am I bound for Sovengarde? Can I hope for the unrelenting beauty of Moonshadow? To be blinded by the living mosiac that it is?"<p>

Verax sighed heavily. "I know not the end of my path. Only the one laid out before me. We do...only what we're meant to do, Justiciar."

"And what where you meant to do, Argonian?"

"I was meant for one thing and one thing only, Theatlus. Battle. Endless battle. The path I walk is forever steeped in the bones my enemies. Maybe long ago I could have been a man but I know now that I am only a herald of doom. Those who raise their blades and Thu'um against me will fall. The rest is for the Aedra and Deadra to judge as they are above us. Whilst I am on Tamriel I will skirt neither evil nor good."

Theatlus thought about this as the assassin moved imperceptibly closer. "Now we are come to the end. It is my turn for questions. Are you ready Altmer?"

"As I'll ever be." the justiciar said.

"I give you your options. The blade will be quick and nearly painless. You will feel the bite in your neck but only for a moment. I also have a fast acting poison that will be somewhat unpleasant but you will fall asleep and never awake. Which do you prefer?"

"The poison." Theatlus said after a moment's consideration.

Reaching down as if to pat him on the shoulder Theatlus felt a slight pinch on his neck when the Argonian touched him. Verax appeared to be empty handed as he pulled back but the elf wasn't particularly concerned what had just happened.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Hmph. For an assassin you're not so bad." Theatlus yawned.

"For a Thalmor you're surprisingly civil." Verax said. Theatlus grew more and more tired which each passing second and found it hard to keep his eyes open. He was struck by the profound sensations of both nausea and vertigo though he was sure the ground wasn't moving as rapidly as it seemed.

"At least...with this poison...you cannot..." he managed to slur.

"Don't worry." Verax's voice floated down from far away as the world spun around circles. "I'm quite immune to the poison."

Theatlus was vaguely aware of a heavy pressure on his neck but it and everything else soon slipped into an infinite darkness just outside reality.

* * *

><p>"Camilla? Camilla?"<p>

The beauty of Riverwood turned from her path to find the elderly Hilde waving at her. Moving to speaking distance Camilla smiled but the old woman was clearly distraught. "What is it ma'am?"

"Have you seen my boy Sven? I cannot find him anywhere."

"Perhaps he is out in the woods ma'am. You know how he loves his walks."

"No no, not this time." Hilde said unhappily. "He has not been home for two days."

"Days?" Camilla blinked. "That is worrisome. Have you notified a guard?"

"They won't listen! Something bad has happened to my Sven, I know it!" Hilde cried. "Who would want to hurt my boy?"

Camilla could think of someone but her Faendal had been killed in a dragon attack months ago. Was it possible that now something had befallen Sven as well? There were ill rumors of him consorting with Thalmor but the elves never visited their little hamlet so that had to be falsehood.

"Come mother, we will speak to the guards. Perhaps someone saw something or Sven went out for a lengthy trip without mentioning it."

* * *

><p>The two elves knelt down nearby what remained of the building. Fire had taken almost the entirety of the structure and little remained but ash. They sifted through what was there to find but little could be salvaged.<p>

"How did it start?" one asked the other.

"Who knows. The building went up so fast I'm just glad everyone made it out in time."

"Anything we can save?"

"Doesn't look like it. I'd wager Summerset will not be pleased with losing all those files."

"I suppose his Lordship won't be either when he returns. Would hate to be the one to have left a candle burning too long and have caused this."

"Isn't he due back already?"

"Aye. Perhaps they were delayed by weather."

The second elven enforcer looked around at the mountain terrain surrounding them. "Do you feel like someone is watching us?"

"Right now? Here? Don't be daft. These Nord peasants would only find death spying on us."

"Aye...silly of me."


End file.
